My Fairest Lady
by coffeelatte
Summary: Oshitari was sure that there would be a special, special hell for him in the afterlife.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay. This is following the timeline of my other story, 'My Kouhai, Your Kouhai'; if you haven't read it, be sure to check it out! :3 Please read and review! :D Please tell me what you think about the whole OC, because I'm afraid she might have been made out to be a sue. Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I do now own PoT.

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"Hey did you hear? Uehara got dumped again!" a third-year boy seated himself down comfortably in front of Oshitari, waggling his eyebrows and possessing a rather mischievous glint in his eyes.

Oshitari raised a brow and gave a small noncommittal grunt before flipping his book to the next page. His eyes never left the page in front of him, blue eyes scanning the text in front of him; Hidori-kun was about to propose to Marie-chan, Oshitari thought with an irritated note. People always interrupted at the best of scenes, he mused; silly children.

Like that time Atobe had so nicely asked for advice right when Shima-kun was getting ready to kiss Nori. _"Ore-sama demands attention," _he'd announced.

Huh.

The boy in front of him, Ginta, wasn't discouraged though. He persisted still, placing his elbows on top of Oshitari's desk and his head on top of his book, and Oshitari fought the urge to roll his eyes. He continued to read, but his brow twitched in irritation; Ginta's face didn't blend in too well with the print of the love story of the century. Oshitari sighed before finally looking up. "What," he demanded.

The boy grinned wolfishly. "I heard Uehara got dumped again," he repeated.

Oshitari sighed again. "Uehara? Who's that-"

But he was cut off when he met Ginta's bewildered gaze, which was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"What," Oshitari asked again; if Ginta was going to tell him some stupid story, he might as well just tell him everything rather than expect him to know something about it.

"How can you not know Uehara Ayame?" Ginta's voice grew girlishly shrill as he stood up and slammed his fists on Oshitari's desk. He'd heard that Oshitari didn't care for rumours and the like, but to not know the legend of Uehara…how could he? "She's the famous third year!"

Oshitari rolled his eyes. Really, the students these days had too much spare time. "What are you talking about-"

"The famous beauty that has a one hundred percent chance of getting dumped!"

Oshitari prepared to roll his eyes and wave off the boy, but paused. The famous beauty with a one hundred percent chance of getting dumped? The two phrases if the sentence didn't fundamentally fit together, did they?

A beauty famous for being dumped?

Aside from the strangeness of the situation, Oshitari scoffed at the state of the student body at Hyotei. It had a self-proclaimed Emperor who acted more like a prissy diva than a king. It had a student that was famous for being obsessed with music. It had another student famous for being dumped even though she was beautiful.

Geez.

"They say," Ginta continued, "Her face is pretty, so she's dated around a lot. But she has never dated anyone longer than a month, because they all end up dumping her in the end!"

Oh? Intriguing, Oshitari raised his brows; he was a gentleman, a lover of woman. Women and girls, with their soft locks of hair and delicate smiles and gentle words. Where would the world be without women? They'd still be stuck in the stone ages, Oshitari was sure.

And so hearing of this beautiful damsel in distress by continual dump-dome struck a chord in his lady-loving heart. Well, the 'beautiful' part did.

It was now that several other boys in the class joined the conversation, crowding themselves around Oshitari's desk.

"Oh, you talkin' about Uehara? This time it was two weeks, wasn't it?" one asked.

"Nah, more like a week and a half," another murmured.

"Damn, wasn't that like the ninth guy this year?"

"Woah, nine already? I stopped counting at six."

Oshitari observed all this with in silence, before finally shutting the epic tale of Hidori-kun and Marie-chan. The conversation seemed to be taking on an odd route, with a recap of each of the girl's failed relationships. "Exactly why," he finally spoke, slowly and with a light drawl. "is she dumped if she's so pretty?"

The boys all turned to him one by one, each wearing amused smiles. Ginta was the one who spoke. "She _looks_ like a pretty doll, but..." Ginta broke out in a grin. "her mouth is as foul as sin!"

* * *

Ayame heaved a sigh, languidly turning to grasp one of the leather-bound encyclopedias on the book tray. With another sigh on her lips, she went on tip-toe to slide the book into its proper place in the shelf; it was her duty as student librarian.

After all, she didn't have anything better to do during lunch. It wasn't as if she had any friends to gossip and chatter with, anyway. Guys usually looked for something other than friendship from her, and she didn't really fit in with the girls here, either - she was a bit…'rough around the edges,' she sighed. She didn't really fit in here, in this elite class of nobility and sparkling gold.

The nasty slut that always got dumped. The famous beauty with a one hundred percent chance of getting dumped. The easiest to start dating, the hardest to actually go out with. The weird country girl. She had lots of titles; she knew them all, too.

With a groan, Ayame fell to the floor in a crouching position with her head buried in her arms.

She herself didn't know why guys dumped her so easily! Not to be vain or anything, but she was one of the cutest girls in the grade! But why was she always dumped?

Oh, alright, so she knew why.

When people saw her, they saw some beautiful doll that belonged in a store window. They flitted about her without bothering about her personality or what she was like on the inside. What did that matter to them when she looked pretty?

Her personality didn't matter to the boys who dated her so they could proudly show her off on their arms.

But once they saw who she was, they were...disappointed, she supposed. She wasn't the perfect lady from a rich, noble family that walked with ethereal grace and spoke with elegance.

Rather, she was...a country bumpkin. She had that slight accent that had no real roots but distinguished her as someone who wasn't naturally from the city. She'd transferred here when her father, the owner of several large ranches and a Vineland, though shed fare better in the company of refined society.

She came from a wealthy family, but she'd grown up on a ranch, practically raised by the rough and gruff ranch hands. She wasn't refined with a golden spoon in her mouth since birth, like everyone expected of her.

She was aggressive in physical education, enjoying muddy sports such as soccer and baseball; those two had been what the ranchers had played with her when she was a child. She was better at riding a horse than sitting still in those stiff, expensive cars. She liked and preferred burgers and soda to caviar and white wine.

And worst of all, she had that country talk. With the country slang that no one understood and the country jokes that no one around her found funny and the country ideas that no one else had.

She was what people would call _weird_.

And, okay, there was that, too.

She had the nastiest temper anyone had ever seen.

She was nice and all when she wasn't bothered, but when she got angry, she got _angry_. Angry, as in, blazing with the hot flames of furious hell. Angry, as in, a full blown tirade supplemented with unheard-of curse words and foot-stompings and shin-kickings.

Oh, it got bad.

And, well, once someone saw that side of her, no one wanted to see any other side ever again.

She wasn't delicate.

And Ayame hadn't thought that she'd be such an outcast for it. And she'd really liked all the guys that asked her out. She wasn't just going out with them to show that she could, like other girls thought.

Each one had seemed so sincere and capable of making her laugh that shed fallen quite hard for all of them; despite her unrefined nature, she was quick to fall in love.

But she hadn't been what they'd expected, so she was dumped. Quite cruelly, in fact.

"Looks are really deceiving," Arima-kun had said just two periods ago. "You're pretty and all, but I just can't date someone who's so embarrassing and...possessive!"

Alrght, so it wasn't just her unladylike qualities that chased guys away. She was also quite easily jealous; she didn't like it when her boyfriends flirted with other girls, even as a joke. But as it turns out, most guys her age didn't appreciate that kind of possessiveness.

Ayame sniffled. She'd really liked Arima-kun! With a small whimper, she broke out in small tears. Why was she always like this? She was always heartbroken and dumped!

* * *

"_So, Oshitari, what do you say? You did call yourself a lover of women, didn't you?" Ginta asked with a growing smile. He leaned in towards Oshitari, and Oshitari adjusted his glasses and stared back at Ginta coolly. _

"_I called myself a lover of women, and not one who makes fools of them," Oshitari corrected._

"_Oh, c'mon. It's just a harmless little bet; it's our last year, let's make it fun!" Another boy chimed in._

_Oshitari stared at him, too, and rolled his eyes. "If you want to make it fun, why don't you do it?"_

_Ginta cut in, then, grinning wryly. "Didn't you hear a word I said? Yeah, she gets dumped easily, but she's one of the prettiest girls in school. She has standards, too; do you think she'd go for a bum like him?" Ginta pointed at the boy who had just spoken._

_The boy frowned, opening his mouth to protest but thought better of it and shrugged._

"_It's a tiny, teeny little harmless bet," Ginta assured. _

_Oshitari narrowed his eyes. "Dating Uehara just to see if I can outlast a month is not just a harmless bet. It's rather disgusting and un-gentlemanly," he replied, opening his book to continue the story. Anymore talking with these idiots would be a waste of time._

_Ginta huffed. "You bore. Fine. If you do it, I'll let you meet my sister."_

_Oshitari raised his brows._

_Ginta's sister, the famous princess of Hyotei's high school division? Oho? He'd never seen her before, but even he'd heard the rumors of her famed looks. And apparently, she had the leanest, longest, smoothest legs of anyone. _

_Oshitari admitted he had a slight leg fetish._

_But was he willing to sacrifice another lady's happiness for his?_

_Well. Then again, from the rumors she was just a mindless slut dating this boy and that. It couldn't do that much harm, could it?_

_Oshitari gave a smirk._

"_Done."_

_Ginta grinned, and slapped Oshitari on the back. "Alright. Have her dating you by the end of the week; I assume that's child's play for you, right?"_

_Oshitari's smirk widened. "That's perfect."_

…Is what he'd said.

So he'd come now, during lunch, to find the girl in the library. 'You'll know right when you see her,' the others had said.

Speaking of, what kind of 'whore' was the student librarian? This girl got weirder and weirder the more he thought about it.

Oshitari looked around for a short while, before shrugging when he couldn't find her. He wasn't up to the challenge of asking around and seeking her out, so while he was here, he might as well check out another novel.

He went straight to the romance novel collections, a place he visited frequently. And it was in this particular aisle that he found, quite possibly, the girl he'd been looking for.

She was holding a book in her hands, a blue, velvet-covered book; a familiar one, that he'd just returned the other day. She had the book cart next to her, but she seemed to be neglecting her duties in favor of reading the book in her hands.

She murmured under her breath whilst reading, something along the lines of, "…how beautiful," at a scene, Oshitari presumed.

But then it was now that he truly got a look at her looks, and realized that her reputation wasn't for naught. She had the typical Japanese black hair and brown eyes, but her hair was thick and long and wavy, that glistened even under the library's dim lights. She had pale, pale skin and pink lips and a heart-shaped face. Her eyes, though a common shade of chocolate brown, seemed almost huge as he could see them moving along the lines of the book. She was a bit short, and her blazer hung on her frame rather loosely.

…She wasn't the prettiest girl Oshitari had ever encountered, but certainly the one of the prettiest girls he'd seen at school. Then again, he didn't look at girls much in school; just their legs. And if he found their legs unsatisfactory, he wouldn't even bother looking at their faces.

…Speaking of legs, this girl's were a work of art, Oshitari realized with a wave of approval. They were pale and creamy and supple and _amazing_. They were thin, but not creepily so; they had the perfect amount of fat on them to make them look very enticing, and not like sticks, as many girls had. Knees, too, were nearly unwrinkled. No wrinkles - on knees-!

Forget her face, he wouldn't mind if she was the ugliest girl in the universe if she had legs like these!

He'd still been a bit hesitant when he'd seen just her face; she wasn't beautiful enough to make the whole bet guilt-less for him, but those legs…he could fully forget the fact that he may very wel hurting this girl when he could see legs like those.

"That book's quite good; I like the plot," Oshitari announced, putting on his most charming smile and tilted his head, inclining it towards the book the girl held.

The girl's head snapped up immediately, and Oshitari could see traces of dried tears on the girl's cheeks. Come to think of it, he had heard that she'd been dumped today. So she'd liked that guy enough to cry over him, huh?

Hm.

The girl spoke then, breaking out in a small smile and responding, "I didn't think boys read books like these."

Oshitari blinked.

Had he just heard right? Was that…a country accent the girl was speaking with? He suddenly felt an urge to break out in laughs, at the beautiful sight that was marred so badly by her voice. But he held it in, and smiled.

"Mm. So you're the famous Uehara Ayame?"

Suddenly, the girl's face dropped and the book she'd held was lowered. "And what if I am? Are you going to make fun of me, too?" the girl's voice was shaking, and she trembled.

Her face had turned several shades paler than normal, and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. The girl's lips trembled, and Oshitari suddenly felt a pang of pity for her.

It seemed as thought many people made fun of her.

And she said all this with a light accent, making her dialogue seem more comical than heartbroken, something Oshitari felt even more pity for. "No, I didn't mean to-"

Ayame gathered herself up, drawing her lips into a thin line. Her eyes narrowed and she tossed her head up angrily, a light flush covering her cheeks. "Don'tcha dare even think about uttering another word, you little cow! I know I'm weird; so what? Why, all you little city folk and your stupid little-"

Oshitari found his jaw dropping faster than the girl could say 'cow.' When she'd started to tremble, he'd thought that she was crying; but no, she was _angry_!

And he barely had time to register that she was now hurling the book she'd been holding at his head, and he barely ducked in time.

"If you even think of approaching me again, I'll kill ya!"

Ayame stomped off in a huff, and Oshitari was left staring speechlessly at her retreating back. "Her mouth is as foul as sin," huh?

…What had he gotten himself into?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay guys. SORRY I was so inactive! School started up, then I got caught up in Rping. XD Wanna RP with me at the sites I'm at? PM me, darlins. ;) I luffs it. 3 Anyways. This chapter's pretty short, but I felt like I should get something out there. It was the guilt eatin away at me. XD Oh, and I made a few lil tweaks here and there with chappie one. 3 GO READ AND REVIEW. And the next update will be much longer and come more quickly than this one had. x3  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.

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Hmm…so this was that girl's class, eh?

Oshitari stood outside classroom 3-B with a pensive expression on his face. He grasped his chin with one hand and wrapped his other arm around his waist as he leaned back, and stared at the door. Hm.

To open, or not to open, that is the question.

Just then, two chattering girls came to return to class early from lunch, when they noticed Oshitari. Immediately, they scuttled over, giggling and laughing. "Oshitari-kun! It's so rare to see you in this hallway!" one of them chimed, smiling brightly at him.

Oshitari smiled and nodded, before asking, "Is this your class?"

"Yep," they replied in unison, and Oshitari smiled at them.

They swooned.

"Can you tell me about a girl named….Uehara Ayame?"

Suddenly, the two flinched, before taking a step back. "Wh-what? Why do you want to know about her?" they whispered fiercely, scandalized expressions on both their faces. A quiet, almost subdued air seemed to have settled in about them, and Oshitari raised a brow.

He tilted his head. "Why not?"

One of the girls swallowed. "N-No, it's just that, well…she's a monster!" she exclaimed quietly, ducking her head and looking around as if to check as if anyone had heard. Satisfied, she straightened up and licked her upper lip nervously. "Don't you know? She's the Terrorist of Class 3-B!"

Oshitari's eyes widened, before he blinked. "…Terrorist?"

The other girl nodded furiously. "On the first day, someone teased her about her accent, and she went absolutely ballistic! She kicked her desk towards him, screaming and shrieking some obscenities no one had even heard before, and stalked out! Of course, she was suspended for a day after that fiasco, but…she's really horrid!"

Oshitari's lips twitched in amusement. So the girl was also known as a terrorist, huh? Just how many nicknames did this girl get? "Is that so," he murmured, before smiling at the two girls. "Thank you, ladies," he nodded before sliding into the classroom.

The two girls stared at each other, before squealing. Oshitari Yuushi had thanked them!

Ayame sighed, before dropping down in her seat. She didn't like this place that they called school. They estranged her, simply because she wasn't like them! Alright, so her temper did have a hand in all this too, but still. When she was home-schooled back on the ranch, no one laughed at her when she mispronounced every word while reading aloud in class. No one judged her for having the wrong accessories from the wrong store. People never whispered about her when she passed by, looking at her as though she were a ticking bomb!

Maybe she should never have come to school. She should have just stayed on her ranch with her ranch-hand guardians.

Se leaned her chin on her hand, puffing air into her cheeks. She was bored; the teacher was always late to class, and it wasn't as if anybody talked to her, anyway. The incident on the first day of school ensured that.

So she didn't react when she saw a pair of legs stop in front of her desk, brushing it away that someone was probably pausing by to look around the room or something. But then the person bent down and Oshitari Yuushi's face appeared in front of hers, smiling, and Ayame leaned back with a furious glare.

"Whattaya want," she huffed, crossing her arms. She didn't even bother to attempt to conceal her accent this time; who cared? He'd already heard it before.

Oshitari smiled. "Just some of your time, Princess," he shrugged smoothly.

Ayame's eyes narrowed. "Just what…are ya' gettin' at?"

Oshitari's smile widened and he shrugged again. "I just thought you might like some company," he murmured, sweeping a hand across the room, where no one had even deigned to look at her direction.

Ayame flushed, before sniffing. "Whatever. I don't need some company that only makes fun of me." But still, she noted, with one eye open. She'd heard a lot about him - girls were always, always talking about him and the other boys on the tennis team; not to her, of course, but she overheard them.

He was a super brilliant genius with a mighty IQ, a talented, prodigal tennis player, and a brilliantly gorgeous person, to boot. And really, he was one of the best looking ones in the school, Ayame noted, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes.

Oshitari took a seat on her desk, and Ayame leaned away even further, pressing her back into her desk. She stared up at Oshitari, eyes wide and expression wondering if he was positively insane. "What are you doing?"

"Obviously, I'm sitting down. Standing for so long makes my legs ache."

Ayame frowned. "Then sit on an empty chair, and get off my desk-"

"Will you go out with me?" Oshitari asked suddenly, in a tone one would use as though he were describing the weather.

They always said direct was the best way.

Ayame's eyes grew wide, her features suddenly contorted with disbelief before she narrowed her eyes angrily. She felt a sudden burst of irritation flare within her; what did this guy take her for? Sure, she dated around a lot, but even she had to be wooed, to be enticed, to be drawn, before she fell for someone! Ayeme set her lips in a thin line, before growling. "I don't know what you're gettin' at, but dontcha dare take me for an idiot," she hissed, before storming out of the room.

And Oshitari sat calmly atop her desk, smiling even as girls began to crowd around him, tugging on his shirt and asking if he wanted to go somewhere today. No, he didn't, but that girl was quite…the girl, wasn't she?

* * *

Ayame walked out of the building, with a sigh, and looked around. Students immediately got into the flashing, shiny high-end cars that pulled up to the entrance, and she, too, looked around for her own ride. But where was it? As much as her eyes scanned the driveway, she couldn't spot the familiar black SUV, and just as she prepared to call her parents, her phone rang on its own.

"Hello?"

After a few moments, Ayame's face contorted in disbelief and irritation. "What?" she muttered into the phone, only to be met with a quick apology and a dead end. With a curse under her breath, she deposited the phone back into her pocket, and walked towards the gate; she'd have to walk home today. Apparently, the driver fell sick, and her father hadn't had time to hire another one.

Sure, she didn't mind walking, but really. Her home was at least ten miles away! How was she to walk all that way?

Turns out, she didn't.

As soon as she took the first step out, a gleaming black car pulled up straight in front of her, screeching as it came to a stop. Ayame darted back a step, eyes wide; that thing had nearly run over her foot! Who-

But the window rolled down soon enough, and Ayame huffed and prepared to walk away. Only, she couldn't. Why, you ask? Why, it was because of the hand that was currently _gripping her arm through the window._ With a baleful glare, Ayame grit her teeth at the face that beamed back at her from inside the car; just why the hell was he so fixated on her, she hissed.

Oshitari Yuushi gave her a serene, lovely smile, and she felt herself waver. Finally, she coughed out a: "…Wh-what?"

And he smiled even more prettily than before, and Ayame felt herself blink. Oh, please, not this time, she shook herself mentally. How many times had she fallen for a pretty face? Oh, right millions. And how many hadn't disappointed her?

Not a single one.

And this one surely wasn't good for her, she was sure.

But when he said "I though you might want a ride; walking home with that face isn't safe for you, Princess. I'm afraid you might get kidnapped," Ayame was hooked, lined, and sunk. Again.

She felt that figurative noose place itself around her neck, and felt it as Oshitari tightened it with that beautiful smile of his, in her head. Why was she so weak to such cliché, stupid lines? But even knowing that it was overrated and overused and he probably didn't even mean it, Ayame felt herself blush at the comment, before sniffing. "I…I just…I mean, I don't-"

But she stumbled backwards when the door suddenly clicked open, Oshitari's face grinning from inside. "Just come in."

And Ayame felt her legs move as if she had no control of them, sliding herself onto the plush leather seat inside.

Oshitari, by this point, had become pretty satisfied with himself. Albeit, when he'd seen her preparing to walk home, he hadn't expected it to be so easy to get her into the car. In fact, he hadn't been expecting it at all. But he'd seen her suckered expression at the few lines he'd dabbled out, and then he'd understood.

Just why this girl had been caught dating so many.

It wasn't that she seduced them, it was that she'd been easily seduced.

What a simple, silly girl, Oshitari's lips trembled as he fought down the laughter.

And Ayame sat there, fumbling around with her fingers, heart beating rather hard. Why did she feel like this? Oh, no, she moaned; she was absolutely not going to fall for this one; never this one. Just look at him! He practically had 'Don't come near me, I'm a womanizer and a player and I can get all the girls to agree to date me simultaneously' stamped across his forehead.

And yet, she couldn't deny the simplistic charm he had about him.

He was elegant, and refined, forget his accent. With the eloquent words that spilled from his mouth like jewels, no one would notice such a thing. Not to mention, he was book-smart, too; he had class, and was selective in whom he dated. In short, he was one of those fairytale princes come to life.

One of those boys that were a hazard to her health, really.

"So, how do you like Hyotei so far?" a soft, sultry voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and Ayame turned to stare at Oshitari for a few minutes in response.

Oshitari smiled in response at the girl. She wasn't all that bad, he thought. Well, he recalled her violent bout of anger in the library, perhaps she was a bit…rough, he supposed. Nothing that he couldn't fix up. And yes, 'fix up.'

Oshitari Yuushi was perfection, perhaps on equal footing with that prissy diva of a captain, now that he was off gallivanting and dating a rather imperfect girl. Really; his captain's newfound infatuation with a certain girl somehow made certain of his mortality, rather than the god-like persona he usually possessed. And Oshitari found that extremely silly; why change yourself for a mere girl?

In any case, he was perfect. That meant his girlfriend, too, had to be perfect.

As soon as he got this girl in his grasp, he'd begin…modifying her. Molding her. After all, he needed something to show off, didn't he?

He saw the rather confused light in Ayame's eyes, and painted on a gentle smile. "I'm the student council treasurer. It's my job to make sure people are happy."

Ayame seemed to be satisfied, and opened her mouth to speak, though she paused for a bit. "Hyotei's…it's…it's nice," she finally mumbled, looking into her lap.

No, it wasn't nice. She was practically an outcast there, a pretty face wasted on such an unrefined personality. Whatever, she didn't care, she shrugged to herself. Well, maybe she did, but she wasn't about to admit it. She was only there for one more year, and she was out of there. Out of the town, even, maybe. Seriously. These city folk were so confusing, and they had so much slang they could make a whole new language!

But Oshitari smiled, and shrugged. "That's good," her murmured, though he could plainly see it wasn't all that 'nice.'

Still, they pulled up to her house soon enough, and with a muttered thanks, Ayame dashed into the house.

Oshitari lingered, smiling thoughtfully for a few moments. Amusing girl, really.

* * *

Ayame didn't stop running until she reached her room. As she slammed inside, she shut the door quickly and locked the door and leaned against it, panting. What was she doing, even, locking her door? Ayame felt quite silly after, and with a sigh, walked over to plop down on her bed. She picked up a pillow to hug tightly, closing her eyes tightly.

"Oshitari Yuushi."

Ayame rolled the name around on her tongue, almost as if she could taste the words; Oshitari Yuushi, hm? He wasn't…he wasn't like the others. Oh, that sounded terribly cliché, Ayame sighed. But really, he wasn't! He was…a gentleman. He was kind, as far as he knew, though a bit stubborn and incorrigible.

Or was it just those familiar rose-tinted glasses plopping down over her eyes again? She knew that experience all too well.

Every single stupid time she met a boy, she fell for him, just at the mutter of a few lines. And then she thought everything about him was bliss, she swore.

But…Oshitari Yuushi. Maybe he was different. Maybe he'd like her for who she really was, she mused, and smiled.

Oshitari Yuushi.

Pretty name.


End file.
